


The Pressure Will Make You Feel

by MossPrinx



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: (mentioned only) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Black Hawke, Canon-Typical Violence, Custom Hawke, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hawke REALLY loves her companions, Past Rape/Non-con, Queerplatonic Relationships, The Twins Survive Lothering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 14:50:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6758554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MossPrinx/pseuds/MossPrinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rory Hawke has had the weight of the world on her shoulders long before Kirkwall.<br/>At least having friends made it a little easier to carry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pressure Will Make You Feel

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is honestly a self-indulgent work detailing the life and times of my Hawke, Rory, but I'm excited to see where it'll go. For the time being, it's not exactly linear, but that's subject to change as the story develops. A lot of the fics will probably be inspired by songs (Jhene Aiko specifically for now), but as all things I write, it probably won't stay that way for long.

“Do you regret it?”

                Rory Hawke peeked at the tiny elven woman she had locked arms with, who was craning her head up at the giant of a woman, staring with those big ol' eyes of hers. Turning her gaze back to the illuminated Hightown streets, she made a short noise in the back of her throat, one Merrill knew was asking her to elaborate.

                “Sleeping with Fenris, do you regret it?” She tried again. When Hawke’s eyes fell to her feet, Merrill found herself instantly filled with both guilt and fear. _Damn her curiosity!_  She should have known that that wound was still fresh, even over a year after the fact. The rhythmic sound of Hawke’s heeled boots connecting with the cobble below them was no longer calming and constant, instead punctuating the tension Merrill’s inconsiderate words brought about. Mind racing a mile a minute, the blood mage tried to apologize, only to be cut off.

                “I…don’t regret it,” Hawke breathed, tightening her hold on the tinier woman’s arm. Finally meeting Merrill’s eyes, she continued. “I’ve thought about it a lot and…I don’t think I regret it.”

                They rounded a corner, Hawke nodding to some of the guards on duty as they passed. For a moment, they fell silent again—Merrill carefully considering her next words as Hawke led on. The mage was not a woman of many words, so hearing so much at once from her must mean sincerity, she decided.

                Finally, the elf spoke up, though it was barely a whisper, for Hawke’s ears only. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

                To her surprise, Hawke barked with laughter, catching it in a closed fist as she turned her head sheepishly—her shaking shoulders gave her away, though.

                “Yeah,” she sniffed and laughed again, and Merrill quickly realized Hawke was crying. Any attempt at consolation was ignored as she continued. “It hurts a lot.”

                Knowing she was stubborn when it came to accepting help, the elf just clung to the only woman that really took the time to understand her as she wiped away what tears escaped her eyes, head low so passersby wouldn’t ask questions. When she spoke again, Merrill had become so familiar with the silence that it actually made her jump.

                “Don’t feel bad,” Hawke laughed, slipping her arm from Merrill’s grip and throwing it over her shoulders instead, pulling her in close. “Varric says it’s not good to keep it all in, you know?”

                “But doesn’t Varric lie and hide his feelings all the time?”

                “He does, doesn’t he?" Hawke laughed again, and it didn't feel as pained as the last one. "Hypocrite.”

                There was a pause before Merrill spoke again. “You really love him, don’t you?”

                “Varric? Of course.”

                “No,” Merrill shook her head, ruffling her hair on the other mage’s coat. “Not Varric.”

                Running her fingers through her partner’s soft hair, Hawke looked wistfully in the direction they both knew Fenris’ mansion was in, smiling sadly. “Yeah. Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! If you have any song suggestions (or prompts) for me as the story develops, feel free to let me know! Comments are always appreciated.


End file.
